


Night Terror

by Charlie572



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is gonna smell different in every single fic I write, Destiel - Freeform, I will aggressively spell it Cas, M/M, No cursing in this fic, The violence is really brief but if blood grosses you out this may not be the fic for you, Violence, but don't worry no one's seriously hurt, description of nightmare, fluffy angst?, i guess?, not sorry ok, there's a gun and it goes off, well not really but one of the characters is obviously extremely upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/pseuds/Charlie572
Summary: Dean has a night terror about his time in Hell.…AU where Sam’s disappeared the way Cas does when the writers find him inconvenient to the plot line. Don’t worry, Sam’s fine, doing something I won’t talk about with people I won’t name. Maybe it’s Ruby. Maybe Gabriel. Heck, maybe it’s God. Headcanon away.I don't have a beta so I tried to fix everything myself, pls lemme know if I missed anything, how does one find a beta reader, would love to have someone beta read my stuff, I'll beta read your stuff if you wantI love criticism. Tear me apart in the comments. Seriously.





	Night Terror

“Come on, boy. Wake up.” They’re at Bobby’s house. Dean is lying on the floor, asleep. Except his eyes are open, his mouth isn’t closed, and his body is twisted around the blankets Bobby had put down a few hours earlier. And he isn’t waking up, snapping out of it, or, apparently, able to see Bobby.

Dean’s had nightmares before. Bobby’s seen Dean have nightmares before. But he’s never seen Dean like this, sweat dripping out of his hair, knees pulled up against his chest, pure terror on his face. Dean’s eyes are focused on a point above Bobby’s left shoulder as the older man sits in front of him, hands on Dean’s arms.

“How long has he been like this?” A deep voice startles Bobby into grabbing for the gun he knows Dean keeps under his pillow. His bare wrist thumps the floorboard before he remembers the gun is beside him, away from Dean’s panicked hands. Then the gun is pointed at Castiel, standing over the two men, shrouded in darkness.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bobby can’t help but think Dean seems to be past the point of wanting a gun. He’s practically on his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks and soaking his shirt, begging for mercy from an unseen foe.

Castiel vanishes and returns a moment later with a stiff breeze and a wet rag. He sits down next to Bobby, with Dean between them, and reaches towards Dean. The bullet enters his left ear. He doesn’t flinch.

Castiel says nothing, looking at the (sleeping?) man in front of him.

“I can help him,” Castiel says, simply. After several minutes of intense staring, he reaches up to wipe at Dean’s brow.

Bobby growls something at him and slaps his hand. Hard. Castiel nods as he hands over the rag, and Bobby wipes Dean’s brow, hoping the damp cool of the fabric will calm him. Cas is still too close, and Bobby points the gun again, threatening to fire a second shot. The angel backs away.

“You will not wake him.”

“You wanna give it a shot? I’ve been tryin’ to snap him out of it for damn near an hour, and I ain’t gettin’ nowhere.” The angel’s eyes seem to sink back into his skull, and he holds Bobby in his icy stare as he reaches towards Dean, one hand cupping the back of his head, two fingers between his eyes. Bobby keeps the gun on the angel until Dean’s eyes are slipping closed, his hands are releasing Bobby’s arm, and a look of contented peace spreads over his features. 

“You’re safe,” the angel says, and Dean relaxes further at this insistence.

The next morning, Bobby wakes up in his own bed with the sinking feeling that he’s forgotten something.

Dean’s in the kitchen making coffee, humming Zeppelin while he washes a pair of chipped mugs, shoulders swaying in some kind of a dance. Bobby realizes how much he missed this when Dean was gone. The older man smiles at his son, and breathes in the smell of coffee strong enough to completely overshadow the honey-rain scent of a certain angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I hope I made it clear, but if I didn't, Cas wiped Bobby's memory of their encounter, and Dean didn't wake up during his night terror, so neither of them remember that anything happened.


End file.
